


Domo Arigato

by BionicallyIronic



Series: The Importance of Pop Culture Awareness [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Borderline crackfic, Creative cursing because that's all Darcy knows, F/M, Fluff, Light snark, Might turn into real crackfic, Tony's not the only one with an appreciation for pop culture, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3142277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BionicallyIronic/pseuds/BionicallyIronic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the many reasons to be up-to-date on pop culture is so you can know when someone is making fun of you. Or flirting with you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domo Arigato

The first time she did it, it went right over Bucky’s head.

He’d seen the girl around Stark Tower before, usually with an armful of papers or toaster pastries and trailing behind the astrophysicist Thor was head over Mjolnir for. Today, when the elevator doors opened up in front of him, there she was, a haphazard stack of file folders clutched to her chest and a pen clenched in her teeth. Her blue eyes widened a touch and the pen fell from her mouth when she saw who was about to board the elevator. Even though he’d been deprogrammed for a year now, he still wasn’t used to the looks and whispers that followed in his wake. He was seconds away from taking the stairs, all twenty flights of them, when the girl gave a little flourish of her hand – nearly losing some of her folders in the process – and stepped to the side, as though welcoming him aboard.

“Sargent Barnes,” she said, a small smirk lifting the corners of her mouth. She picked up the corner of the flannel shirt she wore and curtsied, actually curtsied, like Bucky was from the 1740’s, not the 1940’s.

Instinct and good manners kicked in immediately, and he gave a little nod in her direction along with a quiet, “Ma’am.”

“Ooh, ‘ma’am’,” she said. She pushed her glasses up her nose with one chipped-polish finger. “No one ever calls me ‘ma’am.'”

Those lush and lovely lips split into a grin, one that twisted Bucky’s stomach. But before he could think too long on it, she began to hum a little song, one with repetitive, staccato notes. As they rode up to the common room where many of the Avengers and those closest to them gathered to eat and relax, the song moved from the choppy bit she’d been humming to another that was slightly more melodic, and, considering her interpretation, dramatic. The doors pinged as they opened, and the girl stayed put. She was probably on her way to the labs in R&D, several floors above.

Again with that little hand flourish, that coy grin. “Sargent.”

He paused halfway out of the elevator, preventing the doors from closing on him. There used to be a time when talking to girls was as natural as walking or breathing, but that time was long gone. He almost waited a beat too long, almost slipped into antisocial stalker mode, but then he said, “It’s Bucky. And thanks for the song.”

The grin she gave him could have powered the whole damn tower. “Oh, no, thank you. Thank you, thank you.”

Bucky’s eyebrows arched in confusion. He couldn’t tell if the girl was pulling his leg or not. There was a sing-song-y lilt to her voice that said yes, but when he replayed the entire ride up in his head, he could think of nothing either of them had done that could be construed as a joke. So he stepped out of the elevator, and watched the doors slowly close on the girl and her sparkling eyes. 

***

The second time she did it, Bucky was in a terrible mood and it pulled him out of it.

Stark had run some diagnostics on his arm, and the series of electronic pulses seeking out faulty mechanics had hurt like a son of a bitch. To add insult to injury, Stark had found some wiring that was beginning to fray near his shoulder and would need to be replaced soon. Bucky was not looking forward to that, as live nerves had wrapped themselves around the wiring closest to living tissue, and any work done there was sure to be painful. 

Bucky was so focused on his arm – twisting and rotating it this way and that until it felt like it was part of his body again and not just a hunk of machinery –he ran right into her.

Papers fluttered to the ground as the girl let loose a steady stream of swears, some of which Bucky had never even heard before. Well, at least, not in those configurations. 

“Son of a dickweasel! I just collated those motherfuckers! Clint, I swear on all that’s holy I will make you regret exiting your mother’s vagina!” 

Her eyes flashed up, presumably, expecting to see Clint, and when she saw Bucky instead, any and all thoughts of dickweasels seemed to vanish from her mind. “Heeeey, Barnes-y,” she said. 

God but her smile was downright wicked.

“Have you come to help me with my problems?”

Why was it that whenever this girl talked, he felt like he was missing out on a joke? But, given the way laughter always lined her words and made sparks gleam in her eyes, if there was a joke, he wanted in.

“Ma’am, I am so sorry,” he said as he began to help her pick up her papers. He didn’t know a damn thing about her work, but considering all of the charts and color-coded tabs and pages torn loose from paper clips, he was sure that he’d set her back hours. 

“Barnes. My man. It’s all right.” She reached out to stop his harried collection of her paperwork by placing her delicate hand on his cybernetic one. The smirk was back, though, and knowing her, it had likely never really gone away. “You’re just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control.”

Bucky stared at the place where her pale flesh met his metal plating. She hadn’t flinched. Hadn’t paused. In fact, her fingers flexed gently, as though testing the resilience of the metal beneath. He was completely unused to it. He dug back into the part of his brain that felt the most like his old self, and hoped that part still retained the knowledge of how to charm a woman into a date, and, if he was lucky, into his bed. An old, familiar grin of his slid into place. “You’re gonna have to let me make this up to you. My Ma didn’t raise a lout. Coffee?”

That million-dollar smile was back, the one she’d first flashed at him in the elevator a week ago. “You got a deal, Barnes-y. One thing. You gotta stop calling me ‘ma’am’.”

This was more like the dance he was used to. He looked up a her through his lashes, an old move that had always worked in the past. “Well, I would, doll, if you ever told me your name.”

“Ooh, now I’m a ‘doll.' I love it when you talk forties to me.” She dropped the papers she had collected, which at this point, were clearly a lost cause, and extended her hand for him to shake. “Name’s Darcy Lewis.”

Bucky shook her hand (so small, so warm), then gathered up her papers quickly and handed them to her as they both stood. “Beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

She gave him an ‘oh please’ sort of gesture before taking her paperwork back. “I bet you say that to all the interns who happened to be at ground zero when an Asgardian landed on Earth.” 

With a little laugh that hinted at dark and mischievous thoughts – more, he wanted to hear more of that from her – Darcy took off down the hall. “Coffee. Friday night in the Commons.” 

She began to hum that song again, remarkable only for its sharp, short notes, and Bucky stayed rooted to the spot until he could no longer see or hear her any more. 

***

But before coffee, there was a mission.

It wasn’t one of the worst, but it wasn’t one of the easiest, either. Steve had decided that both he and Bucky, along with Natasha and Tony would be enough to take out the Hydra cell they’d discovered hiding in Tijuana. The only part of it that made Bucky nervous was the thought that he might not make it back in time for his date with Darcy. But, after scrambling to come up with a Plan B when Plan A went awry, they did it. 

Getting Tony back on the jet before letting him ‘experience the local culture’ was another story, but between the three of them, they managed.

They were on the jet flying back to New York when it happened.

Bucky was rubbing a thin coat of oil into the metal plates of his arm, humming absent-mindedly. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t notice when Natasha silenced Steve with a signal, or, when he failed to notice the signal, she shut Tony up with her hand over his mouth.

“What’s that song you’re humming, James?” she asked. There was a gleam in her eyes and a canary behind her teeth.

The buffing cloth stilled. He’d been humming? When he looked up, all eyes were on him. 

A flush the same red as the star on his shoulder crept up his cheeks.

“Just a song I heard somewhere,” he said.

But there was no way that answer would satisfy the Widow. “Where did you hear it?”

More nervous shifting in his seat, more darting glances around the jet. “That intern, Darcy. She’s always humming it.”

Natasha’s grin split her face, like someone had given her every Christmas present she’d ever wanted, all tucked into the trunk of a pretty black muscle car. “Can you hum it again? So everyone can hear?”

Jesus Christ, it was like being called out by his first grade teacher for misbehaving, all over again. Bucky looked over to Steve, who shrugged. Seemed like he was just as much in the dark as Bucky was. Better to get it over with, because no one on this plane was going to let him ignore this. He hummed a few bars of the song, which was all he knew. 

It was enough.

Bucky had a few seconds of bewildered silence before Tony let out a wild whoop of laughter, bending over at first, then dropping into the nearest seat. He was nearly breathless when he said, “JARVIS, Lewis works for me, right? If she doesn’t, she does now. If she does, drop a bonus in her bank account. If she asks, tell her it’s for making my damn year.”

Bucky liked Stark, found his rat-tat-tat patter similar to that in the flicks he and Steve used to watch back in the day. But right now, he was lost. “The fuck does that mean, Stark?”

Natasha seemed ready to put him out of his misery, but Tony cut her off. “No way, Romanov, this is an aural –aural and not oral, you dirty-minded bastards – lesson. JARVIS, be a dear and strike up the Styx, you know which one I mean.”

“Of course, Sir.”

The cabin was immediately filled with shimmering synthesizers, then a chorus of voices singing some words he couldn’t make out. He listened closely, and realized some of the lyrics matched snippets of his conversations with Darcy, but he still didn’t hear the similarities between this song and the one she had been humming every time he’d talked to her. Tony was alternating between singing the lyrics with gusto and laughing so hard that Bucky was surprised he hadn’t fallen out of his chair. 

Then the song got familiar. Bucky straightened in his seat, matching the staccato singing with the short notes Darcy had been humming. “What’re they saying here?” he asked, pointing up to the speakers.

At least Natasha tried to stifle her laughter. “The part you’re not catching is Japanese. The lyric goes, Thanks a lot, Mr. Roboto. She’s-”

“She’s a goddamned genius is what she is,” Tony said. “Though if she thinks that I’d ever outfit that arm in anything from IBM, she’s fired. Stark tech, all the way. Only way to fly. Or, you know, make a cybernetic arm.”

Bucky glanced over at Steve while Tony took it upon himself to sing the rest of the song as loudly as he could. His best friend shrugged, and behind the casual gesture, Bucky could see Steve was worried about how he would take this. Darcy wasn’t exactly making fun of him and his arm, but…

A small laugh escaped Bucky, the first real one in a really long time. And then he cracked, laughing nearly as hard as Stark. That girl had brass balls, that was for sure. He’d always been a sucker for a gal with a sense of humor.

***

This time, he was going to cut her off at the pass.

They had agreed to meet in the Commons, but that just didn’t feel right. Didn’t feel like a real date, which was certainly what Bucky was hoping this was. He’d even gotten Sam to help him pick out clothes – a dark gray button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, jeans that Sam swore were appropriate and not too casual, and his still-long hair neatly pulled back at the nape of his neck. To make it all feel even more date-like, he’d bought her flowers, a big bunch of irises and tiger lilies and creamy white roses, and he waited for her in the lobby of the tower. 

The cool night air threw her dark curls around like she was some kinda movie star when she walked through the doors. She had on a dress for once, something short and flirty and swingy; tights that tinted her pale legs dark; and, despite the dress, black combat boots. Bucky’s heart raced. 

She waggled her finger at him as she approached. “This isn’t what we agreed on.”

Bucky gave her a shrug and a smirk, and handed her the bouquet. She tried to hide it, but he didn’t miss her small smile when she tipped the flowers to her nose for a sniff. He held out his arm, his metal arm, and she didn’t hesitate or flinch when she slipped her arm around his elbow. 

They had the elevator to themselves, and Bucky waited approximately three seconds after the doors closed before he began to sing the song quietly to himself. He had requested an iPod as soon as they landed, and asked JARVIS to program exactly one song on it. He had the lyrics down cold, and, given Darcy’s astonished grin, it was worth listening to one song on repeat for more than a day.

He ignored her dropped jaw and said, “I’m so glad you agreed to come out with me. I’m sure you’re wondering who I am.”

She shook her head when she realized he had turned the tables on her and was incorporating song lyrics into their conversation. “How long have you known, you goofball?”

“Well, it’s a popular song, Darcy. And I am a modren man,” he said. 

She gave him a little shove.

Bucky reveled in the little touches, the way she treated him like a normal person, even with the arm, even with his past. After so long and so much isolation this was a welcome balm. He wanted more. 

He hooked his arm around her waist and brought her near. “My heart is human. My blood is boiling. And Stark said he’d have you fired if you thought that parts from IBM would ever go into anything he worked on.”

Darcy threw her head back in a laugh, exposing the long line of her throat. Bucky wanted to trace from her clavicle to her jaw with the tip of his tongue.

The doors pinged open, and her wild, cackling laugh spilled into the Commons, drawing all eyes toward them. Steve’s eyes widened, and as a tiny smile graced his lips, he ducked his head down, like a proud papa pleased to see his oldest out on a date. Natasha’s grin was back as well, and Bruce leaned toward her, waving his finger between the two entwined in the elevator, clearly asking to be filled in. Tony, though, immediately rose from his seat by the windows and spread his arms wide.

“Is this it? Is this the first date? Do we get to witness it? JARVIS, a first date calls for a first dance, strike up the-”

“JARVIS shut these doors immediately!” Darcy yelled. 

If the AI was conflicted by the simultaneous orders, they never knew. As the elevator doors slid shut, the opening synthesizer strains were heard playing in the Commons. 

“Ms. Lewis, where would you like to go from here?” JARVIS asked.

She stared up at Bucky, traces of mischief picking up the corners of her mouth again now that Tony was gone and she was the Head Troublemaker in Charge again. “JARVIS, if you would take us to the roof and prohibit Tony Asshat Stark from accessing it for the next four or five hours, that would be fantastic.”

“Most definitely, Ms. Lewis.” The elevator began its upward ascent once more.

“Four or five hours?” Bucky asked, with a smirk to match hers. “What on earth are you going to do with me for four or five hours, doll?”

Her teeth dug into her plush bottom lip. She stared at his mouth before her gaze flicked up to his. “I could think of a few things.”

Her fingers gripped onto his, and she began to pull him out of the elevator. Reluctantly, he let go of her hip and followed. As she walked out onto the roof, Bucky let out a little groan of want. She wasn’t wearing tights, she was wearing stockings, the kind with a seam running up the back. It was like a little taste of home.

Darcy threw him a glance over her shoulder, one that said she was completely aware of the effect she had on him. “See something you like, soldier?”

He was going to fall hard for this one. Thank you, thank you, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Long time reader, first time poster. The plan is to make this a series, if life allows it.


End file.
